The Things I Never Got to Say
by bubblegumkiss
Summary: Short fic, 3 sections. SS. Sakura's point of view about her love for Syaoran, memories of prom, high school, and a letter. Read and Review. I just need to know that someone understands. Rated for a couple curses in chapter 3. Other than that its very mild
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I NEED A CREATIVE OUTLET.. SO HERE IT IS. This is an essay I recently wrote for my college English class. I'm sorry it's not an update on the other story. I don't know if I'll ever be able to. However.. this is my real life story and I put it in the form of fanfic cause I desperately need feedback. I just need to know that people are out there and can understand me. I just feel like sharing. It's a three part essay and that's about it.  
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My earrings glinted gold when I shook my head slightly to tousle the newly released curls I was converting my straight hair into using Rika's curling iron. Oddly enough as I stared into that mirror looking intently at my reflection, I didn't really see myself. My eyes were out of focus and I simply saw the blurry outlines. I often did that intentionally just because I sometimes liked to look out of blurry eyes. The only thoughts that ran through my head were of Syaoran.

I had one last shot. After years of liking and not liking him, our broken friendships, our rebuilding of that friendship, after all our small memories, I was going to lose him. He was going to leave me far behind and I couldn't do anything about it. I always knew he was smarter than me, smarter and would go much farther in life, but that didn't mean I never thought of being a part of it. It was a silly childish dream that I couldn't seem to give up.

Maybe that was why I never could get over him. The ideal thought that we could be elementary school sweethearts always clung close to my heart. I spent two years simply pining over someone I knew I couldn't have or even confess my feelings to. We always liked each other when the other was interested in someone else. _Why did that happen?_

My dress was beyond gorgeous. It was a tie-dye of aquamarine, yellow, white, and brown. At an empire waist line it flowed out gracefully, making me look as though I glided when I was simply walking. Dotted with beads and sequins, it caught the light and made me feel ethereal as I flounced around Rika's house. _Why was it like this?_ I knew I couldn't see him anymore after tonight.

Prom was the night of graduation, which was really convenient because we could have an after prom as crazy or even for as long as we wanted. It was inconvenient, because it really was such a defining conclusion to senior year. I didn't want it to be over. I wanted one more chance.

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We sat in front of the school. I was just talking with friends, we were waiting for them or something silly along those lines. But I saw him sitting there, waiting alone and I gravitated towards him. _Did you call me to you?_ I sat next to him, hoping he wouldn't shun me, hoping that we could for once have a quiet conversation I could remember. One that wasn't online, one that wasn't awkward, one that wasn't arguing religion and getting into a fight, I just wanted one to really remember. 

We sat there, staring out into the surrounding parking lot and the circular road that wound around a grassy little island with trees, the flag pole, picnic tables, and the bike rack that remained despairingly empty.

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The strange thing was, I couldn't remember the conversation as I thought over the memory in the limo on the way to prom. I could only remember feeling like I had to have this moment. I thanked God for this moment, and I couldn't bear for it to end. But like all things, it did, and it ended when his girlfriend pulled up in his car. 

We pulled up to the red carpet of our prom. Rich kids get treated like rich kids. My town is in Southern California, and it's one of those towns where the student parking lot has a ridiculous number of luxury brand cars and completely outshines the teachers'. That wasn't to say our teachers were poor, they were paid pretty damn well working for our school district. The janitors in my high school were paid more than the actual teachers in city schools. We had a lot of janitors.

We walked down the red carpet, but I didn't really focus on my task. I didn't focus on my partner next to me either. My dressed floated and I pushed my hair out of my face. _When was he going to get here?_

* * *

I watched as he and his girlfriend pulled away. When I got up and turned to look to where my friends had been sitting by the doorway, I wondered how long they'd been there and what exactly my interaction with him had looked like. Could they see the sadness behind my eyes? 

So many people describe emotions and feelings that people can see in other's eyes, but I never could tell, so I wondered if it was just a beautiful play on words and reality, or if I just never looked deeply into people's eyes. I always thought that maybe I was just not observational enough, so I always tried to scream out with my eyes incase someone would notice.

I looked at Tomoyo. We linked arms and went apart from our other friends. I muttered a quick "thanks". I looked at her with as much appreciation I could muster up into my eyes. "You know how much that meant to me, right? Thanks so much for letting me talk with him. Thanks so much for keeping them waiting." She nodded. She understood what I felt. _Did that moment mean anything to you?

* * *

_

I waited for him. And when he did come, I felt nervous and relaxed at the same time. We had big screens where you could watch other people walk down the carpet. My limo was relatively early. I watched him when he got out of his limo, his girlfriend at his side, and all I could think about was how good we'd have looked together. Throughout the night, I danced, I followed my friends around, chattered, gambled, but always my eyes searched for him. I always made a reason to go closer, but I never could approach him.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: SECOND PART SORRY IF ITS CONFUSING.. ITS SUPPOSED TO BE KINDA.. like memories.. just blending together. lol

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_We were in fourth grade when I first met you. _

I didn't think it would mean anything. I didn't know I'd spend so much of my life thinking about him. I didn't know that in fifth grade we'd be in the same class, that in sixth grade I'd lament the loss of our closeness, that in seventh we'd go out, that in eighth he'd be the most important friend, that in ninth he'd love me and I'd leave him, that in tenth we'd become strangers, that in eleventh I'd fall in love, and that in twelfth I'd be lost.

If I had known that back then when we were only fourth graders, barely introduced, barely glancing at each other, that he'd become so intertwined in my life eight years later, would I have done anything differently?

I floated around. My shoes were ridiculously high and yet the dress made me look as though I glided. Blue, yellow, brown, white, shimmer, glint, it all surrounded me like a dream and in my daze I had few comprehensible thoughts. They blurred and became a hazy layer encasing my mind. The strangely desperate thought of him was the only beacon of bright light that kept me anchored to that night. My mind was a ship lost in a foggy sea of useless thoughts and memories frantically trying to get back to land. _But thoughts of you made up most of that sea and fog._

He told me his weaknesses, that weren't weaknesses, during an argument over religion. 

"Did you believe in God when you were a kid?" _You were so angry._

"Yea, my first prayer was when my parents were fighting and I was praying with all my heart. They stopped and things quieted down."

"You honestly think that's because of God?" _I wish you'd stop being so accusing._

"I still pray like that and encourage my brother to pray when my parents fight too. Yes I do."

"Well, I did the same thing. And God didn't do anything for me. What can you tell me now? He wasn't paying attention? He didn't hear me?" _What's making you hurt?_

_I'm sorry I couldn't protect you._

I wondered all the time about what made him hurt so much. He's the Asian kid who strayed from the other Asians, embracing the rich white kid, jock, cheerleader crap. He sported brands like Abercrombie & Fitch, Hollisters, and Lacoste. He wore shorts and flip-flops in the winter. He used to be obsessive with his hats, which were always in horrible shape after years of wearing them.

In late ninth grade and early tenth, we used to be able to walk in the hall together. I'd lean my head against his shoulder. We were best friend status May 9, 2003. I used to tell him everything. I never realized he didn't care to hear them. When he did talk to me, he only ever talked about the other people he was interested in. I remember asking him why he never told me anything else. He just never could open up to me. And the harder I tried the more he shut himself away from me. He just kept getting farther away, and no matter how hard I tried, he didn't come back.

It was April 4, 2005 when he told me his weaknesses. 

I called him conceited and prideful, coldhearted and blind. He said I was brain-washed, weak, and conditioned into thinking the way I did.

"Concieted? No. Confident? Yes." He had said. "I know where my weaknesses are. I don't think I'm perfect."

He asked if I wanted him to list his weaknesses. I said, "Please do."

I laughed and cried. What he said made me love him more.

My prom was at a castle in Point East, the richest part of our rich neighborhood. It was where the wealthy people in the 1800s or 1900s used to have their summer houses. My elementary school was named after one of them.

Everything was beautiful to me.

The lights had a rosy gold color, there were colorful festive purple lights and green lights too, but the atmosphere itself was bathed in the gold. The walls, decorated with red velvet curtains, reached high up and kissed the ceiling that hung with a chandelier, as though the ceiling wanted to touch the ground too. I walked from the dance floor to the main hall where the lounging area was. I wanted to go to him. I needed one moment to truly talk to him without his girlfriend, but she was always there. He'd said a year before that he didn't want a relationship with her; I wished he hadn't changed his mind.

I wanted to know why we never talked anymore. Whenever I tried, it was always in vain. I was always left regretting having said anything at all. It wasn't even as though we talked in person, and we never talked on the phone, our conversations were always online. But if we ever did talk in person, it was different.

I saw him in the halls all the time throughout twelfth grade. We gave up saying "hi" a long time ago. I don't know when, but we started to make faces at each other in place of a "hi." He'd stick his tongue out at me and I'd wrinkle my nose. Some time deep into the year, he'd begun lightly holding my arm in passing. My arm, my wrist, my shoulder, I didn't care how briefly he held me; it was just the fact that he did. It was such a small gesture but it meant the world to me. I wondered if it ever meant anything to him, or if he had just forgotten who I was and was thinking of me like his other friends?

I'd said "hi" to him, made a face at him, and smiled at him throughout the night whenever I could, but we hadn't gotten a chance to talk yet.

**Littlewolf**: I am self concerned with my body, I can't dunk, I'm not a good soccer player, I think too much, I can't draw, I can't do creative writing, I can't bench my body weight, I'm self conscious, I don't get emotionally attached to girls, I drive too fast, I have big ears, I'm too skinny, I procrastinate, I waste time, I don't get enough sleep, I rush, I don't eat right, I waste money

**Littlewolf:** I forgot how to do CPR, I don't know any chemistry, I don't care about school anymore, I have no respect for certain people, I'm absent minded at times, I waste gas, I don't give my parents the respect they deserve

He talked the most he ever did with me that day online. I wished I could have written a letter to him and for everything on that list, telling him why I loved him for it.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: LAST PART HOPE YOU ENJOYED.. THANKS FOR READING.. THANKS FOR COMMENTING.. i just need the moral support. because honestly i miss him so much.. i do. he's so far.. and i haven't seen him since prom. i miss him terribly...  
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_Dear Syaoran, _

_I miss you._

It was nearing 1:00 a.m. My friends were going to leave soon to start our after prom party. I didn't want to go. The only reason I had come to prom was to talk to Syaoran, to see him, to maybe have on more conversation.

I sat with my friends in the great hall area right by the fan. They sat there chatting, I stared into space. Syaoran came out of no where and sat in front of me. It was the most unexpected thing. Since when did he take time away from his friends, his girlfriend, and come to me? I was always the one to go to him, I had always been the one to leave my friends to talk to him.

But there he was sitting there in front of me and there were no words.

_I doubt you miss me. Why did you stop caring about me? Why did our friendship fall apart? You promised me that one time, that you weren't worried about us because no matter what happened we always found our way back to each other. Do you still believe that? Were you just making up lies to appease me at the time, all the while knowing we would eventually grow apart? _

_I thought about you in China. I thought about all the things we'd probably do, how the people who stare at the two Chinese kids (well i'm half) who suck at Chinese. I remember when I tried to make you say "apple," you had the worst accent I ever heard, but I loved you for it. _

_What was your first memory of us? Mine goes way back to fourth grade. I thought you valued me as a friend from elementary school, but I realized after reading one of your lyrics that you only cared for Meilin and those other kids like that. What did you see me as? Did you see me as another annoying Asian girl part of the Asian group? What did I ever mean to you? _

_Why is it you talk to Joy and Ellen in a completely different way from how you talk to me? Why are they closer to you? Why do you treat me so differently? Why couldn't you just answer me the first time I asked you? _

_Why is our relationship so strange? When I accused you of not caring, why did you confirm it? Why didn't you care?_

_Why didn't you ever write a song for me? You wrote one for Amy and one for your elementary school friends. I remember reading it in 10th grade and being so jealous. I couldn't understand why you liked her. If I had confessed earlier, would you have liked me too? Why did all your xanga entries about me disappear?_

_Did I expect too much from someone who cared too little?_

_Do you remember September 15th in 9th grade? It was Tomoyo's birthday and after Benihana we all walked back to my house. You were the last to leave. What did you feel then? What did you feel after I stopped talking to you till February?_

_Do you remember when I went over to your house in the summer after 9th and before 10th grade? I missed the bus, I didn't want to leave, and I missed the bus, but I walked home and I was so happy. What did you feel then?_

_Why did you come to me at prom and not say anything? Did you mean to say something?_

He just sat there in front of me, listening to us talk. It was as though no one but me had noticed that his presence there was weird.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I asked him, with a mock attitude. We often cursed at each other for no reason as though regular words were too much for us to exchange.

"Shut the fuck up." He replied, laughter in his eyes.

I smiled, "No, you shut the fuck up." I retorted with the same joking tone.

"No, you." He said. It felt like we were little kids.

"Psht, get the fuck outta here." I laughed.

I had more to say, but he jumped up suddenly as though the seat burned him and he simply left.

It was anticlimactic to say the least.

_I asked you so many questions, none of which you'd ever answer. If you could ask me anything what would it be?_

_Do you remember that time you told me your weaknesses? I never got to tell you what I thought of them. They aren't weaknesses, Syaoran, they're faults. Everyone has faults. _

_You shouldn't be self concerned with your body. You're shorter than 6' so it makes sense you can't dunk, besides who really cares? Of course you're a good soccer player, if you weren't why would you be on the field saving those goals?You do think too much. You don't have to draw. Who cares? I can do enough creative writing for the both of us. I don't like buff guys, so benching body weight is really just weird. You could have fooled me about being self conscious, but I'm sure everyone is. You got emotionally attached to a lot of girls you liar. All kids our age drive too fast, unless you're Chiharu. She drives too slow. You have big ears but they're really cute. You are skinny but skinny guys are better than jacked up or fat guys. I waste time too. I waste more time than you ever could. Why is not getting enough sleep and not eating right a weakness? I rush too, but that's because we waste time. You make your own money, and how can you waste money when no matter what you spend on it helps feed someone else? I'm sure that if you had to, you'd remember CPR. I hate chemistry, the only reason I liked it was because we were in the same class. I'm surprised you'd ever say you didn't care about school. You don't have to respect everyone; they're supposed to earn that. You think you're absent minded? Do you remember when you thought I had ADD cause I always went from topic to topic and you thought I was so random? Waste gas all you want, you're paying for it. If you know you don't give your parents the respect they deserve, then why don't you fix that?_

_I still have the little glass animals you gave me. I still have the black karabiner you had refused to give Tomoyo. You made her give it back to you and gave her the blue one instead. But you don't know how much it meant when you gave me the black one later on. I still have the candy graham paper, I still have the card you gave me. What did I mean to you?_

_I began this letter with what I wanted to say originally, the middle just escalated with everything I couldn't say. The ending is what I meant to say all along._

_I love you. I'm sorry. I'll never forget you and I don't want you to forget me. I don't think I'll really love anyone the way I loved you. They way I still love you._

_My letter should have simply said,_

Dear Syaoran,  
I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry.

Remember me always,  
Sakura

_I wish I knew how to end this letter better. Don't forget me,_

_Sakura_

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LMAO i can't believe i didn't catch the mistake with the name.. --;.. anyway ya ty for telling me 333 ty for reading xD


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